Ripple

Ripple

Tucked deep away in a forest that no one knows the name of, there is a pond. This pond is surrounded by fruit bearing trees, strong and fat deer with plenty of meat on them. However, no one knows the name of this forest, therefore no one knows where it lies. The wildlife in this forest remains untouched, unafraid, and plentiful. Even the smallest deer would be enough to feed a family for a week, but this is not about the deer. This is about the pond. 

As if on cue a large stag wanders near the ponds edge. It’s muscles are tight and strong from its frequent runs throughout the woods. With an effortless amount of grace it dips its slender muzzle into the water and gently laps at the liquid. Small ripples flood off of its tongue that are quickly dispelled. When the deer has had its fill it continues to leap over a fallen tree, jarring a sizable rock in the process. The rocks arches high in the air before crashing down in the middle of the pond. The deer, unaware of what it has just done, saunters off in search of fallen fruit. 

The water splashes and rocks, creating the most beautiful image on the surface as the ripples continue on forever. The once stagnant water now feels the sensation of movement at long last, and it loves it. Eagerly the water pushes the ripples to grow, to become much larger than mere ripples, to become waves. The now small waves crash against the ponds edge with small slapping sounds, invisible to the naked ear. To the pond this is a tremendous roar, a storm that cannot be silenced. To the pond this is the time for it to finally show the forest its power, to show them all what it can do. To the pond this is the time for action, not for waiting around to be used. 

Excitement throbs through the ripples as they continue their spread across the glassy surface. The pond has waited long for this opportunity, for the moment where it can finally feel as much power as the other woodland creatures. The ripples are reaching their peaks now, the force of their collision on the land moves the dirt back and forth in an almost hungry manner. Emotion that is completely alien to the pond begins to course through it relentlessly. The promise of what is to come in the future with the ponds newfound power is enough to make the water move even faster than before, longing to overrun its small prison of a pond, to take over much bigger land like it once did before. For once the water feels bigger, like it could much more than what it has been named as by others in this world. For once the water felt like it had a chance at greatness, at happiness. 

The rock hits the bottom of the pond gently. The ripples reach the end of their course and retire lazily in waiting for the next upset on the waters surface. The stag picks at a nearby peach lazily as its family joins in the feast. The pond is calm once again.